|That's me, front center row in the tie-dyed T-shirt. It was a 60's theme|
We've been dealing with some minor controversy in the past couple of posts on this blog, so today I thought I'd hit a really big topic that might make some of you enraged, others amused, and still others scratching your heads wondering why I'm such a dopey guy sometimes. This may be my most controversial post of all.
A post by Karen Walker stirred me to add this bit of nonsense to my blog composition queue and I figured now might be the time to pull out the big guns--er, maybe I shouldn't go there and instead say, now seemed like a good time to get a bit silly.
At my 25th high school reunion--this would have been in 1994 if you're interested in math--I made an interesting discovery. Nearly all of my fellow classmates except for a few of the more exceptional looking women had aged much more than I had. Most of them looked like they had ten years or more on me. Had I not recognized them I would have thought I'd walked into the wrong reunion.
The good-looking women I figured were probably being helped by make-up, but the guys all looked liked they'd graduated years ahead of me. I puzzled over this phenomena wondering why I had not aged like they had. I felt this smug satisfaction of now being the best looking guy in my class. Even the guys who had been the hunks and lookers when they were seniors in high school were now looking more like plain old senior citizens.
Over the next several years I became more aware of how I gauged against my old friends--and I emphasize old. They were aging but I didn't look much older than I did in college. Oh sure, sometimes the lady at Jack-in-the-Box gave me a senior citizen discount when I stopped by for breakfast on my way to work, but she probably did that for everybody. No way did I look like any senior citizen.
Then not long ago my wife and I were wondering about the age of a certain lady we know. I knew she had to be older than I. And then she mentioned what her age was--three years older than I am. I commented to my wife how much older the lady looked than I look.
"Not really," my wife responded.
Taken aback I said, "She looks a lot older than I do." And then added, "Doesn't she?"
"You don't look that much younger," my wife said.
Thanks for that vote of confidence, dear. I didn't understand. What was my wife seeing that I wasn't? I went to the mirror to check it out. There he was--same young looking guy as always. The hair was maybe not as dark as it used to be. That is, what hair was left. The face was still the same face I'd always known. I didn't look all that different.
Oh sure, I can feel my body falling apart, but I'm just out of shape and tired. When I tell my doctor she tells me it's because I'm getting older. Duh--I guarantee you I'm still just as young as I was back when I was younger. I can see it in the mirror. Yeah, it's the same me I've always known.